Wounds
by elementknight
Summary: Some wounds heal with time, some don't. Aramis slipped in Venice, and now he has to face the consequences.


**This is an AU I created, for the new movie **_**The Three Musketeers**_**. I felt as if there wasn't enough wounded or brotherly love between the heroes. I decided to show it with Aramis, who has, from the beginning, been my favorite character. Hope you enjoy it! **

**Word count: 2K**

-She had a nasty habit, involving a chicken, a frog, and a rabbit. - Porthos sang. His capturer approached.

-I don't suppose you could tell me where I could find Athos. - The musketeer's face faltered briefly. What about Aramis?

-Mmmmm… Nope, never heard of him.

-You French spies are very arrogant, and foolish. And you, sir, are so…

-Sexy? - The other man sighed.

-Bring in the other. – He said to one of his guards. _Other?_

A group of guards, armed to the teeth, entered the holding cell, half-carrying, half-dragging Aramis in-between them. He surely had resisted capture, for the guards looked kind of like Planchet's old clothes. But the warrior hadn't come unharmed. Much unlike Porthos, he was probably tortured. He had quite a big bruise on his neck, sword wounds on his arms and chest, and a bullet hole in his left shoulder. He also had a big cut on his right knee, a smaller one above his right eyebrow, and a bruise whose skin opened on his left cheek. His crucifix and sword were nowhere to be found on him.

The guards threw him to Porthos feet, and he landed on his side. Aramis lifted his feverish eyes to his friend. The older man, knowing his smaller friend, knew that his frail body had never taken so much abuse. The Italian approached again:

-Feeling more talkative now, sir? – He said with a smirk, which fell when he saw the dark expression on Porthos' face.

-… Talkative?

The man tore off the parts of the wall which held the chains attached to his wrists. He used their length to kill the guards before they had time to react. He then restrained the fleeing leader. After breaking the hold on his wrists, he said:

-Key… now. – He took the object presented, and bashed his head into the other's skull.

He turned around, and picked up Aramis. The younger man had fallen unconscious, during the battle. Seeing an ill-looking wound on his friend's arm, he took the precaution of taking every bottle in the room, in case they had poisoned him. He also took Aramis' sword and crucifix from the unconscious leader.

He met with Athos and Milady in the Da Vinci's Vault. Both had rushed to their side and had asked what happened. Porthos answered the best he could, and showed the two keys they needed. He had found the second in Aramis vest pocket. They wondered briefly how the guards could have missed it.

Porthos gently put his friend on the ground and gave his key to Athos. On the count of three, they opened the Vault. Picking up Aramis again, they went down. Athos threw his dagger to the ground and, immediately, spiked cannon balls were launched over it. Milady shrugged and ran down the hallway, dodged every ball, and had to slip in the end to avoid the rest. Looking back, upside down, and said:

-Come on, we don't have all week.

Athos smiled and helped her get up. The woman started looking for the plan they wanted, until they heard shots from the hallway. Porthos hid behind the wall, afraid for Aramis. Milady found the plans, and warned her lover. Athos took some explosive from his vest, and put it on a lamp. Before lighting it, he shouted:

-Hold your breath!

Porthos held his, and covered the wounded's mouth and nose. Quickly, they found themselves swimming in one of the Canals:

-Say it! – said Athos to Milady.

- I love you!

-I hate to ruin the mood, - Interrupted Porthos- but I think it's better for the _padre_ to leave the water.

Athos became serious again. They headed back to the building milady had found for them. Laying Aramis near the fire, Porthos stepped back and let Athos do his thing. The musketeer wasn't as good as Aramis, when it came to medicine, but he could handle sword and bullets wounds. He patched up his friend the best he could. At one point, Aramis had woken up, while Athos was stitching his side. Needless to say, it was very painful for the wounded man. Porthos had to hold him down while Athos give him a brew to make him sleep.

Finishing his work, Athos took the glass of wine Milady presented him. They cheered and gulped it down. Then Milady said:

- I love you Athos, but it's nothing personal. – Athos didn't understand- He just offered me a better price.

His vision and hearing worsened, and he heard Porthos fall somewhere behind him. _Poison… _ Another figure entered his vision field and he recognized the form and voice of Buckingham. The man said something and turned on his heel and walked away with Milady. His world turned to darkness as they stopped at the door.

Buckingham was praising Milady when he heard a loud explosion and felt a very sharp pain on his left thigh. He fell forward and grabbed his leg. The two looked to where the shot had come from. Aramis smirked back at them, a pistol in his hand. He let his hand fall limp and fell unconscious due to the sheer effort of staying awake. Milady took out a dagger, and advance to kill him, but the Duke stopped her. They both left, the woman helping him walk.

Athos woke up in the same spot he had fallen. Slowly getting up, and swearing revenge all the while, he looked for his two friends. Porthos was snoring loudly on the floor; apparently the poisoned effect had passed. Aramis condition, though, worried him. He was paler than usual and shivering violently. Some of his wounds had reopened, and his skin burned to the touch. Athos woke up Porthos with a bucket of freezing water, and said:

-Come on Porthos, help me with Aramis. – In a very foul mood, Porthos asked.

-What do ya need?

-To know if he was poisoned, and if you have the antidote.

-I picked this up from the leader of those damned guards.

Porthos handed him a small bottle, of a clear liquid. By the smell of it, it was the antidote for something. Athos sat down next to Aramis. He gently shook the man, in hopes of waking him up:

-Aramis, Aramis, wake up… - He spoke softly. The wounded crack opened his eyes.

-Athos? ...

-Hey there buddy. How are you?

-M' head hurts… - Aramis slurred, too tired to speak correctly. He closed his eyes.

- Hey, Aramis, stay with me. – The other groaned. – I need you to remember something for me, can you?

-What?

- Do you remember if the men who capture you injected you with something, or if one of the sword cuts stung particularly?

-On my right arm… the deep one. I-I think…

Athos rolled his friend onto his side. In fact, a cut on his right arm was looking like it would infect. Silently apologizing to Aramis, he put a drop of the liquid in the wound. Aramis screamed, and Athos held him down. The wound was much cleaner and better looking. The musketeer asked Porthos to bring him a glass of water. He mixed the water with the antidote and made Aramis drink it. The younger man made a face but downed it all. His cheeks had a bit of color on them again, and he didn't look so ill.

Silently, Porthos and Athos left him to sleep, and readied two horses. Aramis would ride with the leader. The two of them slept during the rest of the day. They left at two in the morning. Aramis condition was unchanged, and he would need medical attention soon. It was midday when they crossed the border. They stopped in an inn, for the night, and the next day, they arrived in Paris late at night. They weren't harassed on the way, neither by thieves, thugs or Cardinal's guards.

Planchet was waiting for them at their home, and panicked when he saw Aramis' condition. The man hadn't woken up the whole trip, and it was worrying the others. He was very dear to them all.

_One year later._

D'Artagnan looked in between the three men he had challenged. The religious one, the one who had passed him a ticket, was looking directly in his eyes, as if challenging him to do anything stupid. The boy gulped under that piercing gaze. He and Athos took their position, but Aramis stopped them:

-Aramis… - Started Athos.

-Let me go first. – The younger man said determinedly. – While I still can fight.

-You shouldn't go at all! - Said Athos, still worried about his friend's health. He wasn't completely healed from that time in Venice, even after a year. – You're still…

-Please. – Aramis stared into his friends eyes. Athos crumbled under the stare and gave his place to the younger man. – _Merci_…

-_En garde. –_ He said to the insolent boy. They were about to start when a voice was heard.

-Halt! – The three musketeers groaned. _Jusaac…_ - Defying the edits again? I did not expect this from you three again, especially you. – This last part was directed to Aramis, who rarely fought in duels.

All happened in a blur. D'Artagnan saw Rochefort, and attacked the group of guards around them, in hopes of catching the man who had insulted Butter-Cup. The three musketeers ended up fighting with him, perhaps only for the fun of it.

Aramis was tiring quickly, and was losing ground fast to his enemies. He had been hit several times already, and feared the worst, if none of his friends would second him. Luckily, a well-aimed bucket knocked of one of him, and Athos killed the other, leaving Aramis with the last one. The fight was over quickly, and as the public cheered, and they took the gaskin boy with them, the musketeer hid his rasped breathing and shaking hands.

But Athos would notice, eventually. And then he would make him lay still for the rest of the week, accidently exposing the new boy to Aramis' condition. He indicated to the boy where he could put his… horse, and went inside. Sitting by the fire, he turned down a glass of wine offered by Athos. The older man was momentarily confused, but understanding quickly replaced the confusion.

After explaining the musketeers' system of beliefs to the new recruit, he went upstairs to wash himself and get some sleep. Athos woke him up the next morning; saying that their presence was demanded by the king. Sincerely, Aramis couldn't understand how such a young child could have the qualities to reign, but he would eventually grow up. And, he didn't pay badly either. Their presence was demanded once again to attend to Buckingham's arrival. Aramis stiffened after hearing that. The Duke probably still held a grudge against the one who blasted a hole in his leg. Athos and Porthos had found it hilarious, but it wasn't so funny now, was it?

Nonetheless, they appeared as ordered, in new outfits, worthy of musketeers of their reputation. Buckingham had stolen the plans of the war machine, so his great entrance wasn't surprising at all for the three veterans. They watched as he mockingly greeted the king, and the cardinal. As he passed by them, he exchanged a few words with Athos and sent a glare in Aramis direction. The reason of this hostility could be enlightened by mere observation. If you looked closely enough, you could detect the slight limp in the Duke's walk.

As they returned home, Athos locked himself in his room, Porthos talked cheerily to D'Artagnan and Aramis sat down, reading some old texts he found in Venice. He knew the path ahead of them wasn't going to be peaceful, let alone easy. But as he felt Porthos' strong arms carrying his almost asleep form to his room, he was sure nothing and no one could harm them if they stood together.

It was, after all, one for all, and all for one.

**What do you think? Is it good? Please, feel free to review and give me your opinion.**

** This is EK signing out.**


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